Planet of Dread

by Dwight V. Swain

Her nostrils flared. "And if I will not?"

Craig paused; brought his weapon's muzzle up, steady and level. "A blast from this at close range would sear your breasts till they crackled, my lady."

A quick-drawn breath. Fear was in the dark eyes now—fear, and ... something else, something strange, hard to define.

Then, wordless, the woman slid from the bed and pulled on shoes and a diaphanous outer garment.

Craig came close behind her. "Time's short."

She shrugged; leaned against him for a moment. "Why do you want her, Earthman—that pale slut, Narla?"

Involuntarily, Craig stiffened, then stood wooden-faced, unmoving. "Why does any man want a woman, my lady?"

"A woman—?" Vydys' laugh held an edge of scorn ... or was it fury? "You call that creature a woman, Earthman? There's water in her veins, not blood!"

Craig stepped away from her, not answering.

For an instant lines of quick anger slashed Vydys' face. Then the tempest faded. Together, the two of them, they went out through the corridor to the force shaft. Rode it down in pulsing silence to the seventh level. Walked echoing halls where the tension crawled like a living thing.